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There was a time as a child when I knew I was different. I felt lost and enjoyed thing other girls may not have. I hated dresses, loved wearing ball caps and watched football at the age of five. I’m sure other little girls loved these things as well, but to me I felt alone. I needed to express myself in ways I couldn’t. Growing up was difficult, yet at the same time I enjoyed my way of thinking. I never knew how freeing it would be to admit I was a lesbian. Back then, it was frowned upon and I felt dirty at times. I remember having boyfriends and I just didn’t feel the connection I should have or could have. I did not feel normal, but as I grew older I realized there is no such thing as normal. I should be proud of who I am and not feel confined to a cell for who I love and why. I struggled with guilt because I was raised in the church. I needed liberation and as soon as I met her I knew she was the one. She turned my world upside down and from that moment on we became the best of soul mates and lovers. Twenty years had passed and my past crept up on me very quickly. I fell into addiction and suffered from bouts of depression. The days were long and the nights were spent weeping. I pushed everyone away including my lover. I did not know myself anymore. I had no idea who I was. My drinking had become out of control and I felt despair and hopeless. I wanted to give up all together. I sought medical council and tried medication. But is that what I actually needed? Or was it just my past catching up with me? Memories of abuse and ridicule from peers. Feeling like an outcast because I went alone to prom. Living in secret from my family for so long. Thankfully, my family gave me full support and loved me no matter who I fell in love with or why. My family never gave up on me and in the end I caused them more pain than I had faced when I was alive. Why did I choose to end my life? What was so hard on earth that I could not muster up enough courage to live one more day? Was death the answer to my problems? I had a deadly disease and in the end it killed me. I tried three times before I actually succeeded. I ran away from life and never looked back. Now I live free, but was the pain I inflicted on my loved ones worth it? I left my lover in such anguish that after six years without me, she still cries herself to sleep every night. She feels responsible and wishes she could’ve saved me one last time. I didn’t deserve all the struggles I faced, but she never deserved the pain I inflicted upon her. I left my sister Laura. She was my best friend and I watched her grieve for me in ways I never thought she could. She is so strong now but deep down she suffers from deep remorse and pain. I caused that pain. She will never be the same again…because of me. She needed me in life, and I deserted her like a swift breeze in the night. She showed me such compassion, love and support during my final days and as I watched her read my farewell letter, I wept until my wings broke. She misses me dearly... Dear Bird, I am sorry. Please forgive me. lu Love, -K September 28, 2016
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